


Day 7: Cock Warming

by Folle



Series: Frisky February 2020 [7]
Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Aftercare, Brahms is a bad boy and reader is not happy about it, Cock Warming, First Time Saying "I love you", M/M, Punishment, Rough Sex, Shakespeare Quotations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22658278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Folle/pseuds/Folle
Summary: For slashthedice's event over on tumblr, Frisky February.Day 7: Cock WarmingBrahms Heelshire x Male s/oFollow up to Day 6: Somnophilia
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader
Series: Frisky February 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623325
Kudos: 129





	Day 7: Cock Warming

It’s over lunch the next day that you deliberate over what the exact details of Brahms’ punishment are going to be for the endeavor of his the night before. Not that is wasn’t pleasurable for you, but it pushed a major boundary. On you didn’t think you needed to set.

But APPARENTLY you did.

Of course, Brahms has to clean the bedding since he didn’t deign himself to clean up and left cum to dry all over the sheets. You didn’t know if it would be more fitting for you to clean the cum out of him, but settled for watching him quite intently as he did it himself. His cheeks were bright red as he emptied himself, and struggled to wash out the dried cum from his body hair.

A good enough start, but that was all it was. A start.

You contemplated making him run errands with you in town, but you knew that would be pushing things too far. You want to make him pay and feel bad for doing something like that without your consent, but that would border on him getting arrested.

And then you thought about asking Malcolm over, play some pool, share a few drinks. Maybe even stay over for dinner. But after a quick call, you found that Malcolm is swamped over at the shop. You extend him an offer for help, which he gladly accepts - for tomorrow.

That still leaves the issue of today.

Brahms has his lessons still, and while it’s mostly posturing and an excuse for Brahms to snuggle with you while you read to him, you still indulge him. It’s pretty nice for you too. It’s one of the few times Brahms tones down his brattiness. And that’s when it hits you. You smile to yourself while putting away the leftovers.

Brahms, who sits patiently at the table, tilts his head to the side. “ _What are you thinking about?_ ” he ask, resting his chin on his folded arms.

“Oh nothing Brahmsy. Go get cleaned up for your lessons, alright?”

He perks up at that, and rushes to the sink to get washed up. You only with it were that easy to get him in the bathtub. Usually you have to coerce him with kisses, or the occasional handjob. Sure, he is more malleable in his post orgasmic haze, and lets you take off his mask, but sometimes you wish it were easier.

You head into the library where Brahms usually has been taking his lessons, and pick out Macbeth from the books on the shelves. You set it down on the back of the sofa and strip yourself, meticulously folding your clothes and setting them on the desk. You take the small bottle of lube from your pants pocket, and slowly start slicking yourself up, waiting for Brahms to wander in.

Oh and when he does, you can see his eyes go wide and his back ramrod straight. “Brahmsy…” you drawl out. “It’s time for your lessons. Come and take a seat.” You have to hold back the snerk.

Brahms is less careful with his own clothes, tugging them off and letting them pool on the floor. If it weren’t for bathing him, and spending so much time pressed tightly against him, you would probably forget how lithe and strong his body it, hidden undeath that large cardigan and baggy pants.

You shuffle so your back is against the armrest, and Brahms wastes no time sinking down on your cock. He’s still loose and slightly slick from last night, so sans a sharp gasp, he goes down easily. He tries to set a pace, but you wrap your arms tightly around his, pinning them to his sides. The struggle is immediate.

“Shhh, Brahmsy, not right now. It’s time for your lesson. You’re going to be a good boy for me, and read this act. If you’re bad, I’m leaving for the night,” you breathe heavily into his ear, hot puffs of breath fogging up his mask.

Brahms moans, and squirms on your cock, which feels wonderful. “ _Not fair. You’re so mean-_ ”

You shut him up with a sharp, brutal thrust that knocks the book down onto his lap. “You can still turn the pages. You’re a good boy, aren’t you Brahms? Good boys do what they’re told.”

Eventually, after squirming around on you for a few moments, he finally picks the book up, flips to the marked page, and reads in a shaky voice. He stutters and trips over words, and maybe you shift around (under the guise of getting comfortable) to make his voice hitch.

His body it taut and straining under your arms, like he’s moments away from breaking out of your grasp and riding you until he’s screaming. But he never does. Brahms sits there, just like you told him, doing his reading, and desperately avoiding any movement. In pauses between lines, be bites his lip and whines, clenching around you.

As he gets towards the end of the act, his voice is strained, and you can watch the sweat dripping down the side of his neck. You lap each droplet up, and nose his damp hair, which only hastens his breath.

“ _M-macbeth is ripe for shaking, and- and the powers above put on th-their instruments. Receive what cheer you may: The niiii-_ ” you start moving more underneath him, thrusting your hips up a little, which rips a keening, breathy moan from him. “Please,” he begs, voice deepening.

“Come on, it’s just one more line Brahmsy. You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?” You nuzzle his neck, and nip at the skin there.

He whimpers, and grips the book tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Th-the night is long that never fff-finds the day!” Brahms throws the book onto the floor and throws his head back onto your shoulder. From within your constraints, he tries to ride you, but can’t move much. “Please, please, I was a good boy,” his breathing is so heavy, and his rises and falls dramatically.

You waste no time heaving Brahms over so he’s face down on the other side of the sofa, ass in the air, and pound into him at a brutal pace. Pulling out almost all the way before slamming all the way back into him. In the struggle, Brahm’s mask falls from his face. “Good boy, such a good boy. You’re _my_ good boy Brahmsy,” you say over and over like a mantra.

Brahms clambers to grasp at any part of the sofa, the noises coming from him more screams than moans, but he’s trying to thrust back in time with you, so you continue.

It really isn’t long for either of you. Brahms sobs your name when he cums. You pull out right before and jerk yourself off until you’re spurting cum all over his ass and the back of his thighs. You sit back and admire your work, which isn’t something you’re typically a fan of, but Brahms looks so delicious with cum striping his hairy thighs and ass.

He props himself up unsteadily on trembling arms to look back at you, lopsided grin on his face. It’s the first time you’ve ever properly seen him without his mask on. The entire right side of his face is warped with burn marks, but even with that he’s incredibly hot. He could be a movie star, the romantic lead of a soft romcom where he’s the sweet and shy main romance interest. He scoots his way between your legs and rests his head on your chest.

The moment skin makes contact with skin, Brahms jerks away, and desperately tries to cover his face. “ _Don’t look,_ ” he hisses, blindly reaching for his mask, which has skittered half way across the room in the heat of things. “ _You can’t see me like… You’re going to hate me._ ”

You grab him by the wrists and get him back on your chest. “I know you’re insecure about your face Brahms, but just know I think you’re very handsome. You cans till wear your mask if you want, or I can look away or close my eyes, but you don’t need to hide around me.” You stroke his hair and kiss the top of his head.

He nods and murmurs something into your chest, face fully hidden. “You won’t leave, because of my face?” he asks timidly.

“Of course not. Brahms I- _I-_ ” you huff out a breath, trying to get your tongue to work properly. “I _love_ you.”

Brahms shoots up, eyes wide, and it’s so wonderful to finally see how reactive his face is. If his hands weren’t keeping him upright, he would be holding your face. “Really? Not just- not like how a nanny loves their child?”

You shake your head and smile. “Wholly and fully Brahms, I am _in_ love with you.” You lean forward to steal a kiss from him, and nip at his lips.

Brahms grins like a loon, and hides his face back into your chest, but you know it’s because he’s so overwhelmed because you can still feel his smile against your sternum. “I love you too! I love you more!”

You stroke the back of his head again. “I don’t think that’s possible Brahmsy. I don’t it ever will be.”


End file.
